A Shadow of a Life
by Mrs Write 73
Summary: Feeling guilty because of her feelings for Jace, Clary runs away before he can tell her they are not related


She was lying on her side facing him. So close, they were breathing the same air. The sun shone through the windows, giving Jace's complexion an even more golden hew. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her heart melted. She reached out to touch him but, as she did so, he began to fade. He became translucent and ultimately disappeared...

Clary forced her eyes open. She felt groggy and they were sticky with sleep. Would she ever not dream of him? She mused, knowing categorically that she always would. Checking her phone, she saw a text from Jace saying simply,

' are you there?'. This was not uncommon. She heard from him most days, though she never replied. She could have changed her number she supposed, but his messages reassured her that he was safe and, denying herself a reply felt like the very least share deserved. In the beginning he called everyday. She even answered once. It had been a mistake, 'Clary? Are you alright? Please answer, please tell me where you are...'. He still did, too. At least a couple of times a week. Always leaving a voice message. Some sad, some angry, others desperate. More often now, just musings about his day. A one sided conversation with a person she hoped he would never see again.

Clary dragged herself out of bed. There was an ache in her bones she hadn't noticed before. Her hair was stuck to her forehead yet she shivered a little. Making her way to the bathroom, she flipped the switch of the coffee machine; hot java and a cold shower were the only way to jump start her these days. The water stung her skin but focused her mind. She dressed quickly throwing her hair up into an untidy ponytail. She took a sip of her coffee savoring its dark sweetness before glugging the rest down. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror on her way to the door, she noticed just how loosely her clothes hung upon her increasingly slender frame. ' oh, well,' she thought, ' I'll have to do.' She shrugged on a jacket of Jace's she had brought with her and picked up her keys. The transformation was complete, Clarissa Fairchild was now Claire Wayland. The door slammed shut behind her.

Joe's Diner' wasn't exactly the hottest spot in town. The tables and chairs had definitely seen better days and the whole place was in serious need of a lick of paint. But, it was clean and had a fairly regular clientele, most of whom were usually friendly. Clary was not a great waitress but no one seemed to mind too much. Joe was kind to her, never charging her for her breakages and always giving her a share of tips she knew she hadn't made. She got on well with the people there and made just enough money to pay her rent and buy the art supplies she needed. Claire Wayland's life wasn't exciting, but it wasn't awful either. So why did it all feel so unreal? As though it were happening to somebody else.

The walk home was bracing. Autumn was announcing her arrival with a new nip in the air. Clary was trying to ignore the pain in her abdomen she supposed was hunger. She tried to recall the last thing she'd eaten. A BLT on Tuesday. Today was Thursday. Food seemed unnecessary and undesirable these days but, she was looking forward to Tea with Victoria. Victoria was quintessentially English, almost to the point of caricature and Tea with her was a very English affair. There was always a sumptuous spread and today was no exception. There were smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches with their crusts cut off, scones with jam and cream, a startling array of cakes and of course, lots and lots of tea. Victoria was a warlock and Clary's neighbour, but her apartment mirrored Clary's in shape only. Where Clary had only the minimum of things and was cluttered only by her drawings, Victoria's was a reflection of her personality. There were bright but tasteful soft furnishing, books on just about every subject you'd care to name and always lots of fresh flowers. "Come in. Come in, my girl!" She hurried Clary through the door. "By the Angel! You look so thin I fear you might fade away entirely!" Victoria sat herself on a very plush chaise longue. She was dressed in what Clary assumed were very expensive silk pajamas. "Forgive me, Clarissa", said Victoria after she saw her looking, "I simply forgot to dress this morning. When you've lived as long as I, society's expected standards rather lose their meaning." They chatted companionably for a while, or rather, Victoria did and Clary dutifully ate. The sweetness of the cake was welcomed by her stomach and the warmth of the tea was soothing.

After about an hour Clary got up to leave. As she did so she was gripped by a pain which almost doubled her over. "My dear!" exclaimed Victoria.

"I'm ok", said Clary, "it's just some cramps I've been having."

"I know exactly what you're talking about, my girl. You go home to bed and I'll make something for you and bring it round shortly."

With that, Clary returned home and did as she was told. But, she couldn't shake the feeling that these were no ordinary cramps. She didn't bother to undress before climbing into bed. She felt tired in her bones. She tried to listen out for Victoria but her eyes closed against her will and only the image of Jace was reflected behind them.

It was going to take about an hour for the pain relief potion Victoria had made to brew, so she decided to to settle down with a cup of tea. The apartment was quiet now but Victoria did not mind the solitude. When you're immortal, you have to get used to it. Her eye was caught by the drawing of a young man Clary had given her. It was the same young man she always drew. In fact, Clary's apartment was cluttered with images of him. "This is Jace," Clary had said when giving Victoria the picture, "If he ever comes here it would be better for him if he does not find me." Victoria had wanted to ask about him but somehow it hadn't felt right and he had never been mentioned again. As soon as she entered Clary's apartment, Victoria knew something was terribly wrong. There was a sickly scent in the air and a cloying sense of entropy. Still clutching the tincture she had made, Victoria crept towards Clary's bedroom. She opened the door slowly. The stench hit like a blast wave causing Victoria to gag and turn away sharply. Bracing herself, she entered the room. There was a strange darkness despite the open curtains. Clary was in bed, her arm hanging off the edge. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. There was a greyish liquid running from it, across her cheek and jaw, dripping down onto the sheets. Her skin was pale and clammy and Victoria wondered briefly if she was dead. Suddenly Clary moved. Her back arched making her head loll backwards slightly. She coughed, spluttering out more of the greyish liquid. She's alive, thought Victoria and rushed to kneel beside her. Gingerly, she rolled Clary onto her side so as not to choke on the putrid substance. Just then Clary's phone began to vibrate. Victoria picked it up automatically. The caller ID said 'JACE'. She answered it. "Hello?" She said nervously.

"Clary? Clary is that you?" He sounded both desperate and relieved.

"I'm afraid not, young man."

Jace's response was angry, "Where is she? If you've hurt her, so help me..." But Victoria did not hear him, "I think you'd better get here...and Jace, please hurry."

Jace arrived through the portal as soon as might be expected. Victoria sat imperiously in her armchair waiting for him. She rose and walked toward him. Although she looked a little tired, Jace could feel her magical power radiating outwards in a way he never had before, not even in the presence of Magnus. Jace was impressed. Victoria took hold of his chin between her thumb and forefinger and turned his head first one way and then the other. She took a step back to examine him more fully. "You look thinner than in your portrait. Have you lost weight?" Jace shifted awkwardly on his feet. Loss of weight equated to loss of strength and he did not like that it had been spotted so easily.

"Where's Clary?" He asked Victoria ignored him.

"Would you mind terribly, lifting your shirt up, young man?"

"Listen, lady," replied Jace, "I'm flattered that you want me to take my clothes off so early in our relationship, but I came here for Clary, so if you wouldn't mind telling me where she is..."

Victoria paused for a moment as if about to say something but deciding against it. Eventually she said, "This way, Shadowhunter," and walked out of the apartment. Jace followed behind, surprised at how gracefully she moved. As though reading his mind Victoria said, "what's the matter? Did you think someone my age should walk like Yoda?"

They stopped outside Clary's apartment and Jace said, "I didn't know Yoda was only 30!"

Victoria smiled slightly and rolled her eyes. She pushed the door open and gestured for Jace to enter. He hurried in, moving swiftly from room to room calling Clary's name. "She's not here." He said, finally.

"No," replied Victoria, "but YOU are." And she moved her arm in a semi-circular motion, showing Jace the many sketches, drawings and paintings, Clary had done of him. Looking up at the confusion on his face, Victoria said, "what? No witty retort?" They returned to Victoria's apartment in silence. Jace was struggling to process what he'd seen and come to terms with its reflection in his own life since Clary had left. Victoria took Jace to the room where Clary was sleeping. She looked so thin and gaunt. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheek bones were clearly visible. 'A shadow' he thought and sank to his knees beside her. Victoria pulled back the bedsheets and gently lifted the bottom of Clary's shirt, exposing her abdomen. There, spreading outwards from a single point on her right side, were inky, black rivulets. Like a dark spider spreading poison through her veins. Saying nothing, Jace lifted his own shirt to reveal an identical, if slightly smaller version, of the same mark. He looked up at Victoria who said softly, "I think you and I need to talk, young man."

Jace felt drained. He had told Victoria everything. How he and Clary had met, how they had fallen in love only to discover they were siblings. How he had struggled to deal with that and how Clary had run away before he could tell her it wasn't true. He talked about how they had searched for her, how some had given up. But he had not and never would have. He even told her of his death and resurrection. Everything came tumbling out as though Victoria had somehow compelled him to tell the truth. He had yelled and whispered and even cried a little about how he yearned for Clary as a physical pain and how he could not lose her again. Victoria, had uttered not a word throughout and now that Jace had finished, the silence seemed to be growing, amplifying his unease and consuming the air between then them.

"That's it!" Victoria declared as she stood, suddenly. Jace let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"What?" He demanded, "what's it?" But Victoria was busy thumbing through books, finding them wanting and then discarding them. Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Don't you see?" Victoria asked, "when Clarissa asked the angel to bring you back, she gave up a piece of herself to do it."

"What do you mean?" Jace was incredulous.

"I mean, dear boy, that whether she knew it or not, Clarissa gave a part of her own soul so that you might live."

Jace fell backwards into the armchair. " I don't understand."

"That doesn't surprise me." Replied Victoria somewhat disdainfully. "Your soul had left your body so, Clary gave you a part of hers. That's why you have the same mark."

"But how has that made her ill?

"Your separation. While ever you were in close proximity, her soul was all together, but, once you were apart..."

"So, you're saying we have to be together ALL the time?" Victoria could see in Jace's face, his mind trying to process all the possibilities and problems this would raise.

She chuckled, " Well, I doubt you have to be in the same room for the rest of your lives, but I wouldn't advise moving to another country if I were you!"

"She gave part of her soul for me?" Jace looked up at Victoria, questioningly

"Indeed," said Victoria. "I can only hope you are worthy of it."

Jace met her her gaze. His expression, determined. "I will be." He said.

Clary awoke feeling disoriented and with a head which she felt as though it were experiencing a series of minor explosions. It occurred to her that this might be what a hangover felt like and she silently promised herself that she would never drink. Concentrating hard, Clary realised she could hear a voice. Murmuring - no, chanting - above her. It was familiar, but it's owner's identity was just out of reach. Listening as carefully as her agonised brain would allow, Clary managed to recognise some of the words. They were Latin. It was a spell or incantation and the voice must be Victoria's. Suddenly and inexplicably panicked, Clary tried to flee. In what seemed to her to be a mammoth effort, but was in reality more like the movement of someone caught in a nightmare, she struggled against whatever was restraining her. But, the grip around her middle tightened. They were arms and a leg came over the top of her own and clamped them in place.

"It's ok," a voice said. "You're going to be ok"

Clary's eyes stung with tears too long unshed to fall. And then she said it. Said something she had been afraid to say. But, when it came, it was as much in prayer as in realisation. Just one word. "Jace."

That's when she felt him. Her back against his chest and her head in the crook of his neck. Clary concentrated on his heartbeat. Strong and rhythmic like a bell tolling in the fog, guiding her home. She began to lose herself in him. Sensed them both becoming part of each other. Two halves of a whole. If it were a dream, Clary didn't want it to end. There was a heat radiating between them. Centered where the awful black mark was. She could feel it's tendrils retracting, losing their grip upon her. As they did she began to relax, just as Jace's grip also began to relax around her. Fearful of him vanishing, she grabbed his hand and held it to her. He smiled against her ear.

Eventually, the chanting stopped and Clary was nudged back to reality.

"There. You shouldn't have anymore problems as long as you remember what I told you." Victoria said. She looked at them both, curiously through, Clary thought, somewhat tired eyes. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go and rest on the Chaise next door. Let you two catch up." She winked at Jace and left the room.

"What just happened?" Demanded Clary, "how? When did you get here?"

"I'll explain everything later." Jace replied as he leaned in to kiss Clary.

"No! We can't!" She pushed him away, horrified.

"Clary," Jace said, gently, "I'm not your brother."

"I don't understand. How is that possible?"

"Later. Now shut up and kiss me."

And so she did. She knew the explanation would come. There would be a time when Victoria would tell her what had happened and a time when Jace would take her back to the institute. But, right now that time seemed very far away and so Clary allowed her hands to snake up into Jace's hair and pull his face to hers. The kiss she had dreamt about so often and longed for, for so long, free from guilt or shame was finally happening and was everything either of them could have wished for.

She was lying on her side facing him. So close, they were breathing the same air. The sun shone through the windows, giving Jace's complexion an even more golden hew. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her heart melted. She reached out to touch him but, as she did so, he began to fade. He became translucent and ultimately disappeared...

Clary forced her eyes open. She felt groggy and they were sticky with sleep. Would she ever not dream of him? She mused, knowing categorically that she always would. Checking her phone, she saw a text from Jace saying simply,

' are you there?'. This was not uncommon. She heard from him most days, though she never replied. She could have changed her number she supposed, but his messages reassured her that he was safe and, denying herself a reply felt like the very least share deserved. In the beginning he called everyday. She even answered once. It had been a mistake, 'Clary? Are you alright? Please answer, please tell me where you are...'. He still did, too. At least a couple of times a week. Always leaving a voice message. Some sad, some angry, others desperate. More often now, just musings about his day. A one sided conversation with a person she hoped he would never see again.

Clary dragged herself out of bed. There was an ache in her bones she hadn't noticed before. Her hair was stuck to her forehead yet she shivered a little. Making her way to the bathroom, she flipped the switch of the coffee machine; hot java and a cold shower were the only way to jump start her these days. The water stung her skin but focused her mind. She dressed quickly throwing her hair up into an untidy ponytail. She took a sip of her coffee savoring its dark sweetness before glugging the rest down. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror on her way to the door, she noticed just how loosely her clothes hung upon her increasingly slender frame. ' oh, well,' she thought, ' I'll have to do.' She shrugged on a jacket of Jace's she had brought with her and picked up her keys. The transformation was complete, Clarissa Fairchild was now Claire Wayland. The door slammed shut behind her.

Joe's Diner' wasn't exactly the hottest spot in town. The tables and chairs had definitely seen better days and the whole place was in serious need of a lick of paint. But, it was clean and had a fairly regular clientele, most of whom were usually friendly. Clary was not a great waitress but no one seemed to mind too much. Joe was kind to her, never charging her for her breakages and always giving her a share of tips she knew she hadn't made. She got on well with the people there and made just enough money to pay her rent and buy the art supplies she needed. Claire Wayland's life wasn't exciting, but it wasn't awful either. So why did it all feel so unreal? As though it were happening to somebody else.

The walk home was bracing. Autumn was announcing her arrival with a new nip in the air. Clary was trying to ignore the pain in her abdomen she supposed was hunger. She tried to recall the last thing she'd eaten. A BLT on Tuesday. Today was Thursday. Food seemed unnecessary and undesirable these days but, she was looking forward to Tea with Victoria. Victoria was quintessentially English, almost to the point of caricature and Tea with her was a very English affair. There was always a sumptuous spread and today was no exception. There were smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches with their crusts cut off, scones with jam and cream, a startling array of cakes and of course, lots and lots of tea. Victoria was a warlock and Clary's neighbour, but her apartment mirrored Clary's in shape only. Where Clary had only the minimum of things and was cluttered only by her drawings, Victoria's was a reflection of her personality. There were bright but tasteful soft furnishing, books on just about every subject you'd care to name and always lots of fresh flowers. "Come in. Come in, my girl!" She hurried Clary through the door. "By the Angel! You look so thin I fear you might fade away entirely!" Victoria sat herself on a very plush chaise longue. She was dressed in what Clary assumed were very expensive silk pajamas. "Forgive me, Clarissa", said Victoria after she saw her looking, "I simply forgot to dress this morning. When you've lived as long as I, society's expected standards rather lose their meaning." They chatted companionably for a while, or rather, Victoria did and Clary dutifully ate. The sweetness of the cake was welcomed by her stomach and the warmth of the tea was soothing.

After about an hour Clary got up to leave. As she did so she was gripped by a pain which almost doubled her over. "My dear!" exclaimed Victoria.

"I'm ok", said Clary, "it's just some cramps I've been having."

"I know exactly what you're talking about, my girl. You go home to bed and I'll make something for you and bring it round shortly."

With that, Clary returned home and did as she was told. But, she couldn't shake the feeling that these were no ordinary cramps. She didn't bother to undress before climbing into bed. She felt tired in her bones. She tried to listen out for Victoria but her eyes closed against her will and only the image of Jace was reflected behind them.

It was going to take about an hour for the pain relief potion Victoria had made to brew, so she decided to to settle down with a cup of tea. The apartment was quiet now but Victoria did not mind the solitude. When you're immortal, you have to get used to it. Her eye was caught by the drawing of a young man Clary had given her. It was the same young man she always drew. In fact, Clary's apartment was cluttered with images of him. "This is Jace," Clary had said when giving Victoria the picture, "If he ever comes here it would be better for him if he does not find me." Victoria had wanted to ask about him but somehow it hadn't felt right and he had never been mentioned again. As soon as she entered Clary's apartment, Victoria knew something was terribly wrong. There was a sickly scent in the air and a cloying sense of entropy. Still clutching the tincture she had made, Victoria crept towards Clary's bedroom. She opened the door slowly. The stench hit like a blast wave causing Victoria to gag and turn away sharply. Bracing herself, she entered the room. There was a strange darkness despite the open curtains. Clary was in bed, her arm hanging off the edge. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. There was a greyish liquid running from it, across her cheek and jaw, dripping down onto the sheets. Her skin was pale and clammy and Victoria wondered briefly if she was dead. Suddenly Clary moved. Her back arched making her head loll backwards slightly. She coughed, spluttering out more of the greyish liquid. She's alive, thought Victoria and rushed to kneel beside her. Gingerly, she rolled Clary onto her side so as not to choke on the putrid substance. Just then Clary's phone began to vibrate. Victoria picked it up automatically. The caller ID said 'JACE'. She answered it. "Hello?" She said nervously.

"Clary? Clary is that you?" He sounded both desperate and relieved.

"I'm afraid not, young man."

Jace's response was angry, "Where is she? If you've hurt her, so help me..." But Victoria did not hear him, "I think you'd better get here...and Jace, please hurry."

Jace arrived through the portal as soon as might be expected. Victoria sat imperiously in her armchair waiting for him. She rose and walked toward him. Although she looked a little tired, Jace could feel her magical power radiating outwards in a way he never had before, not even in the presence of Magnus. Jace was impressed. Victoria took hold of his chin between her thumb and forefinger and turned his head first one way and then the other. She took a step back to examine him more fully. "You look thinner than in your portrait. Have you lost weight?" Jace shifted awkwardly on his feet. Loss of weight equated to loss of strength and he did not like that it had been spotted so easily.

"Where's Clary?" He asked Victoria ignored him.

"Would you mind terribly, lifting your shirt up, young man?"

"Listen, lady," replied Jace, "I'm flattered that you want me to take my clothes off so early in our relationship, but I came here for Clary, so if you wouldn't mind telling me where she is..."

Victoria paused for a moment as if about to say something but deciding against it. Eventually she said, "This way, Shadowhunter," and walked out of the apartment. Jace followed behind, surprised at how gracefully she moved. As though reading his mind Victoria said, "what's the matter? Did you think someone my age should walk like Yoda?"

They stopped outside Clary's apartment and Jace said, "I didn't know Yoda was only 30!"

Victoria smiled slightly and rolled her eyes. She pushed the door open and gestured for Jace to enter. He hurried in, moving swiftly from room to room calling Clary's name. "She's not here." He said, finally.

"No," replied Victoria, "but YOU are." And she moved her arm in a semi-circular motion, showing Jace the many sketches, drawings and paintings, Clary had done of him. Looking up at the confusion on his face, Victoria said, "what? No witty retort?" They returned to Victoria's apartment in silence. Jace was struggling to process what he'd seen and come to terms with its reflection in his own life since Clary had left. Victoria took Jace to the room where Clary was sleeping. She looked so thin and gaunt. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheek bones were clearly visible. 'A shadow' he thought and sank to his knees beside her. Victoria pulled back the bedsheets and gently lifted the bottom of Clary's shirt, exposing her abdomen. There, spreading outwards from a single point on her right side, were inky, black rivulets. Like a dark spider spreading poison through her veins. Saying nothing, Jace lifted his own shirt to reveal an identical, if slightly smaller version, of the same mark. He looked up at Victoria who said softly, "I think you and I need to talk, young man."

Jace felt drained. He had told Victoria everything. How he and Clary had met, how they had fallen in love only to discover they were siblings. How he had struggled to deal with that and how Clary had run away before he could tell her it wasn't true. He talked about how they had searched for her, how some had given up. But he had not and never would have. He even told her of his death and resurrection. Everything came tumbling out as though Victoria had somehow compelled him to tell the truth. He had yelled and whispered and even cried a little about how he yearned for Clary as a physical pain and how he could not lose her again. Victoria, had uttered not a word throughout and now that Jace had finished, the silence seemed to be growing, amplifying his unease and consuming the air between then them.

"That's it!" Victoria declared as she stood, suddenly. Jace let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"What?" He demanded, "what's it?" But Victoria was busy thumbing through books, finding them wanting and then discarding them. Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Don't you see?" Victoria asked, "when Clarissa asked the angel to bring you back, she gave up a piece of herself to do it."

"What do you mean?" Jace was incredulous.

"I mean, dear boy, that whether she knew it or not, Clarissa gave a part of her own soul so that you might live."

Jace fell backwards into the armchair. " I don't understand."

"That doesn't surprise me." Replied Victoria somewhat disdainfully. "Your soul had left your body so, Clary gave you a part of hers. That's why you have the same mark."

"But how has that made her ill?

"Your separation. While ever you were in close proximity, her soul was all together, but, once you were apart..."

"So, you're saying we have to be together ALL the time?" Victoria could see in Jace's face, his mind trying to process all the possibilities and problems this would raise.

She chuckled, " Well, I doubt you have to be in the same room for the rest of your lives, but I wouldn't advise moving to another country if I were you!"

"She gave part of her soul for me?" Jace looked up at Victoria, questioningly

"Indeed," said Victoria. "I can only hope you are worthy of it."

Jace met her her gaze. His expression, determined. "I will be." He said.

Clary awoke feeling disoriented and with a head which she felt as though it were experiencing a series of minor explosions. It occurred to her that this might be what a hangover felt like and she silently promised herself that she would never drink. Concentrating hard, Clary realised she could hear a voice. Murmuring - no, chanting - above her. It was familiar, but it's owner's identity was just out of reach. Listening as carefully as her agonised brain would allow, Clary managed to recognise some of the words. They were Latin. It was a spell or incantation and the voice must be Victoria's. Suddenly and inexplicably panicked, Clary tried to flee. In what seemed to her to be a mammoth effort, but was in reality more like the movement of someone caught in a nightmare, she struggled against whatever was restraining her. But, the grip around her middle tightened. They were arms and a leg came over the top of her own and clamped them in place.

"It's ok," a voice said. "You're going to be ok"

Clary's eyes stung with tears too long unshed to fall. And then she said it. Said something she had been afraid to say. But, when it came, it was as much in prayer as in realisation. Just one word. "Jace."

That's when she felt him. Her back against his chest and her head in the crook of his neck. Clary concentrated on his heartbeat. Strong and rhythmic like a bell tolling in the fog, guiding her home. She began to lose herself in him. Sensed them both becoming part of each other. Two halves of a whole. If it were a dream, Clary didn't want it to end. There was a heat radiating between them. Centered where the awful black mark was. She could feel it's tendrils retracting, losing their grip upon her. As they did she began to relax, just as Jace's grip also began to relax around her. Fearful of him vanishing, she grabbed his hand and held it to her. He smiled against her ear.

Eventually, the chanting stopped and Clary was nudged back to reality.

"There. You shouldn't have anymore problems as long as you remember what I told you." Victoria said. She looked at them both, curiously through, Clary thought, somewhat tired eyes. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go and rest on the Chaise next door. Let you two catch up." She winked at Jace and left the room.

"What just happened?" Demanded Clary, "how? When did you get here?"

"I'll explain everything later." Jace replied as he leaned in to kiss Clary.

"No! We can't!" She pushed him away, horrified.

"Clary," Jace said, gently, "I'm not your brother."

"I don't understand. How is that possible?"

"Later. Now shut up and kiss me."

And so she did. She knew the explanation would come. There would be a time when Victoria would tell her what had happened and a time when Jace would take her back to the institute. But, right now that time seemed very far away and so Clary allowed her hands to snake up into Jace's hair and pull his face to hers. The kiss she had dreamt about so often and longed for, for so long, free from guilt or shame was finally happening and was everything either of them could have wished for.

She was lying on her side facing him. So close, they were breathing the same air. The sun shone through the windows, giving Jace's complexion an even more golden hew. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her heart melted. She reached out to touch him but, as she did so, he began to fade. He became translucent and ultimately disappeared...

Clary forced her eyes open. She felt groggy and they were sticky with sleep. Would she ever not dream of him? She mused, knowing categorically that she always would. Checking her phone, she saw a text from Jace saying simply,

' are you there?'. This was not uncommon. She heard from him most days, though she never replied. She could have changed her number she supposed, but his messages reassured her that he was safe and, denying herself a reply felt like the very least share deserved. In the beginning he called everyday. She even answered once. It had been a mistake, 'Clary? Are you alright? Please answer, please tell me where you are...'. He still did, too. At least a couple of times a week. Always leaving a voice message. Some sad, some angry, others desperate. More often now, just musings about his day. A one sided conversation with a person she hoped he would never see again.

Clary dragged herself out of bed. There was an ache in her bones she hadn't noticed before. Her hair was stuck to her forehead yet she shivered a little. Making her way to the bathroom, she flipped the switch of the coffee machine; hot java and a cold shower were the only way to jump start her these days. The water stung her skin but focused her mind. She dressed quickly throwing her hair up into an untidy ponytail. She took a sip of her coffee savoring its dark sweetness before glugging the rest down. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror on her way to the door, she noticed just how loosely her clothes hung upon her increasingly slender frame. ' oh, well,' she thought, ' I'll have to do.' She shrugged on a jacket of Jace's she had brought with her and picked up her keys. The transformation was complete, Clarissa Fairchild was now Claire Wayland. The door slammed shut behind her.

Joe's Diner' wasn't exactly the hottest spot in town. The tables and chairs had definitely seen better days and the whole place was in serious need of a lick of paint. But, it was clean and had a fairly regular clientele, most of whom were usually friendly. Clary was not a great waitress but no one seemed to mind too much. Joe was kind to her, never charging her for her breakages and always giving her a share of tips she knew she hadn't made. She got on well with the people there and made just enough money to pay her rent and buy the art supplies she needed. Claire Wayland's life wasn't exciting, but it wasn't awful either. So why did it all feel so unreal? As though it were happening to somebody else.

The walk home was bracing. Autumn was announcing her arrival with a new nip in the air. Clary was trying to ignore the pain in her abdomen she supposed was hunger. She tried to recall the last thing she'd eaten. A BLT on Tuesday. Today was Thursday. Food seemed unnecessary and undesirable these days but, she was looking forward to Tea with Victoria. Victoria was quintessentially English, almost to the point of caricature and Tea with her was a very English affair. There was always a sumptuous spread and today was no exception. There were smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches with their crusts cut off, scones with jam and cream, a startling array of cakes and of course, lots and lots of tea. Victoria was a warlock and Clary's neighbour, but her apartment mirrored Clary's in shape only. Where Clary had only the minimum of things and was cluttered only by her drawings, Victoria's was a reflection of her personality. There were bright but tasteful soft furnishing, books on just about every subject you'd care to name and always lots of fresh flowers. "Come in. Come in, my girl!" She hurried Clary through the door. "By the Angel! You look so thin I fear you might fade away entirely!" Victoria sat herself on a very plush chaise longue. She was dressed in what Clary assumed were very expensive silk pajamas. "Forgive me, Clarissa", said Victoria after she saw her looking, "I simply forgot to dress this morning. When you've lived as long as I, society's expected standards rather lose their meaning." They chatted companionably for a while, or rather, Victoria did and Clary dutifully ate. The sweetness of the cake was welcomed by her stomach and the warmth of the tea was soothing.

After about an hour Clary got up to leave. As she did so she was gripped by a pain which almost doubled her over. "My dear!" exclaimed Victoria.

"I'm ok", said Clary, "it's just some cramps I've been having."

"I know exactly what you're talking about, my girl. You go home to bed and I'll make something for you and bring it round shortly."

With that, Clary returned home and did as she was told. But, she couldn't shake the feeling that these were no ordinary cramps. She didn't bother to undress before climbing into bed. She felt tired in her bones. She tried to listen out for Victoria but her eyes closed against her will and only the image of Jace was reflected behind them.

It was going to take about an hour for the pain relief potion Victoria had made to brew, so she decided to to settle down with a cup of tea. The apartment was quiet now but Victoria did not mind the solitude. When you're immortal, you have to get used to it. Her eye was caught by the drawing of a young man Clary had given her. It was the same young man she always drew. In fact, Clary's apartment was cluttered with images of him. "This is Jace," Clary had said when giving Victoria the picture, "If he ever comes here it would be better for him if he does not find me." Victoria had wanted to ask about him but somehow it hadn't felt right and he had never been mentioned again. As soon as she entered Clary's apartment, Victoria knew something was terribly wrong. There was a sickly scent in the air and a cloying sense of entropy. Still clutching the tincture she had made, Victoria crept towards Clary's bedroom. She opened the door slowly. The stench hit like a blast wave causing Victoria to gag and turn away sharply. Bracing herself, she entered the room. There was a strange darkness despite the open curtains. Clary was in bed, her arm hanging off the edge. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. There was a greyish liquid running from it, across her cheek and jaw, dripping down onto the sheets. Her skin was pale and clammy and Victoria wondered briefly if she was dead. Suddenly Clary moved. Her back arched making her head loll backwards slightly. She coughed, spluttering out more of the greyish liquid. She's alive, thought Victoria and rushed to kneel beside her. Gingerly, she rolled Clary onto her side so as not to choke on the putrid substance. Just then Clary's phone began to vibrate. Victoria picked it up automatically. The caller ID said 'JACE'. She answered it. "Hello?" She said nervously.

"Clary? Clary is that you?" He sounded both desperate and relieved.

"I'm afraid not, young man."

Jace's response was angry, "Where is she? If you've hurt her, so help me..." But Victoria did not hear him, "I think you'd better get here...and Jace, please hurry."

Jace arrived through the portal as soon as might be expected. Victoria sat imperiously in her armchair waiting for him. She rose and walked toward him. Although she looked a little tired, Jace could feel her magical power radiating outwards in a way he never had before, not even in the presence of Magnus. Jace was impressed. Victoria took hold of his chin between her thumb and forefinger and turned his head first one way and then the other. She took a step back to examine him more fully. "You look thinner than in your portrait. Have you lost weight?" Jace shifted awkwardly on his feet. Loss of weight equated to loss of strength and he did not like that it had been spotted so easily.

"Where's Clary?" He asked Victoria ignored him.

"Would you mind terribly, lifting your shirt up, young man?"

"Listen, lady," replied Jace, "I'm flattered that you want me to take my clothes off so early in our relationship, but I came here for Clary, so if you wouldn't mind telling me where she is..."

Victoria paused for a moment as if about to say something but deciding against it. Eventually she said, "This way, Shadowhunter," and walked out of the apartment. Jace followed behind, surprised at how gracefully she moved. As though reading his mind Victoria said, "what's the matter? Did you think someone my age should walk like Yoda?"

They stopped outside Clary's apartment and Jace said, "I didn't know Yoda was only 30!"

Victoria smiled slightly and rolled her eyes. She pushed the door open and gestured for Jace to enter. He hurried in, moving swiftly from room to room calling Clary's name. "She's not here." He said, finally.

"No," replied Victoria, "but YOU are." And she moved her arm in a semi-circular motion, showing Jace the many sketches, drawings and paintings, Clary had done of him. Looking up at the confusion on his face, Victoria said, "what? No witty retort?" They returned to Victoria's apartment in silence. Jace was struggling to process what he'd seen and come to terms with its reflection in his own life since Clary had left. Victoria took Jace to the room where Clary was sleeping. She looked so thin and gaunt. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheek bones were clearly visible. 'A shadow' he thought and sank to his knees beside her. Victoria pulled back the bedsheets and gently lifted the bottom of Clary's shirt, exposing her abdomen. There, spreading outwards from a single point on her right side, were inky, black rivulets. Like a dark spider spreading poison through her veins. Saying nothing, Jace lifted his own shirt to reveal an identical, if slightly smaller version, of the same mark. He looked up at Victoria who said softly, "I think you and I need to talk, young man."

Jace felt drained. He had told Victoria everything. How he and Clary had met, how they had fallen in love only to discover they were siblings. How he had struggled to deal with that and how Clary had run away before he could tell her it wasn't true. He talked about how they had searched for her, how some had given up. But he had not and never would have. He even told her of his death and resurrection. Everything came tumbling out as though Victoria had somehow compelled him to tell the truth. He had yelled and whispered and even cried a little about how he yearned for Clary as a physical pain and how he could not lose her again. Victoria, had uttered not a word throughout and now that Jace had finished, the silence seemed to be growing, amplifying his unease and consuming the air between then them.

"That's it!" Victoria declared as she stood, suddenly. Jace let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"What?" He demanded, "what's it?" But Victoria was busy thumbing through books, finding them wanting and then discarding them. Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Don't you see?" Victoria asked, "when Clarissa asked the angel to bring you back, she gave up a piece of herself to do it."

"What do you mean?" Jace was incredulous.

"I mean, dear boy, that whether she knew it or not, Clarissa gave a part of her own soul so that you might live."

Jace fell backwards into the armchair. " I don't understand."

"That doesn't surprise me." Replied Victoria somewhat disdainfully. "Your soul had left your body so, Clary gave you a part of hers. That's why you have the same mark."

"But how has that made her ill?

"Your separation. While ever you were in close proximity, her soul was all together, but, once you were apart..."

"So, you're saying we have to be together ALL the time?" Victoria could see in Jace's face, his mind trying to process all the possibilities and problems this would raise.

She chuckled, " Well, I doubt you have to be in the same room for the rest of your lives, but I wouldn't advise moving to another country if I were you!"

"She gave part of her soul for me?" Jace looked up at Victoria, questioningly

"Indeed," said Victoria. "I can only hope you are worthy of it."

Jace met her her gaze. His expression, determined. "I will be." He said.

Clary awoke feeling disoriented and with a head which she felt as though it were experiencing a series of minor explosions. It occurred to her that this might be what a hangover felt like and she silently promised herself that she would never drink. Concentrating hard, Clary realised she could hear a voice. Murmuring - no, chanting - above her. It was familiar, but it's owner's identity was just out of reach. Listening as carefully as her agonised brain would allow, Clary managed to recognise some of the words. They were Latin. It was a spell or incantation and the voice must be Victoria's. Suddenly and inexplicably panicked, Clary tried to flee. In what seemed to her to be a mammoth effort, but was in reality more like the movement of someone caught in a nightmare, she struggled against whatever was restraining her. But, the grip around her middle tightened. They were arms and a leg came over the top of her own and clamped them in place.

"It's ok," a voice said. "You're going to be ok"

Clary's eyes stung with tears too long unshed to fall. And then she said it. Said something she had been afraid to say. But, when it came, it was as much in prayer as in realisation. Just one word. "Jace."

That's when she felt him. Her back against his chest and her head in the crook of his neck. Clary concentrated on his heartbeat. Strong and rhythmic like a bell tolling in the fog, guiding her home. She began to lose herself in him. Sensed them both becoming part of each other. Two halves of a whole. If it were a dream, Clary didn't want it to end. There was a heat radiating between them. Centered where the awful black mark was. She could feel it's tendrils retracting, losing their grip upon her. As they did she began to relax, just as Jace's grip also began to relax around her. Fearful of him vanishing, she grabbed his hand and held it to her. He smiled against her ear.

Eventually, the chanting stopped and Clary was nudged back to reality.

"There. You shouldn't have anymore problems as long as you remember what I told you." Victoria said. She looked at them both, curiously through, Clary thought, somewhat tired eyes. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go and rest on the Chaise next door. Let you two catch up." She winked at Jace and left the room.

"What just happened?" Demanded Clary, "how? When did you get here?"

"I'll explain everything later." Jace replied as he leaned in to kiss Clary.

"No! We can't!" She pushed him away, horrified.

"Clary," Jace said, gently, "I'm not your brother."

"I don't understand. How is that possible?"

"Later. Now shut up and kiss me."

And so she did. She knew the explanation would come. There would be a time when Victoria would tell her what had happened and a time when Jace would take her back to the institute. But, right now that time seemed very far away and so Clary allowed her hands to snake up into Jace's hair and pull his face to hers. The kiss she had dreamt about so often and longed for, for so long, free from guilt or shame was finally happening and was everything either of them could have wished for.


End file.
